


Why Are You Half Naked?

by butraura



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Better Than Canon, Episode: s04e12 Smoke & Mirrors, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Derek, M/M, Multi, No Sex, Not Canon Compliant, PWP without Porn, Season Finale, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butraura/pseuds/butraura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Teen Wolf season 4 finale "Smoke and Mirrors", where instead of eventually going to help the pack save Scott and Kira, Stiles stays behind to help Derek. They argue a lot, as per usual, and even though Derek's visibly dying, the ending makes light of the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Are You Half Naked?

**Author's Note:**

> First Teen Wolf fic. I don't know what I'm doing. It's super short and I apologize! I write short shit.
> 
> This is what I would have rathered happen, instead of Stiles actually going in to the ruins with the pack to help. He was essentially useless in there anyway, except for the whole finding out Scott is a Beserker thing from Kira. In this little world, let's pretend they figure it out another way. 
> 
> This is just a non-sexual story about Stiles being protective of Derek after he gets hurt, and it confusing the hell out of their girlfriends.

 

 “It's what helped me gain control of the shift,” Derek offers, handing the wooden triskelion lid to Liam. “The three spirals mean something different. Alpha, beta, omega.”

 

 Liam does a once-over of the lid. “This is supposed to help me?” he asks in disbelief.

 

 Derek nods. “It's powerful. And it can help you.” He turns briefly to look at Stiles, who's giving him a look of bemusement.

 

 “Really?” he deadpans.

 

 Derek nods subtly. “Just... go with it,” he whispers, annoyed.

 

 Stiles continues to glare.

 

 “Stiles,” Derek urges.

 

 He rolls his eyes. “Yes it's all powerful.” Sarcasm drips from his voice.

 

 “What am I supposed to do with it?” Liam interrupts. Stiles can hear the terror in his voice as the moon weighs down on the beta.

 

 “Continuously repeat the mantra to yourself until you've controlled the shift,” Derek explains, watching him.

 

 Liam doesn't look like he buys it, but tries anyway. “Alpha, beta, omega,” he says. “Alpha, beta, omega.” His body suddenly contorts as it tries to shift but he keeps screaming. “ _ALPHA, BETA, OMEGA_.” 

 

 “It's not working,” Stiles notices, nudging Derek.

 

 “I can see that,” he snaps.

 

 “It's not working!” Liam growls. “What kind of powerful crap is this?”

 

 Stiles gives Derek an expectant look. “Yeah, Derek? What kind of powerful shit is this?”

 

 “Shut up, Stiles,” he yells.

 

 “Well I mean maybe you shouldn't have given him a carving of wood that was made in TAI WAN _. Maybe you should help him on your own._ ”

 

 “Do you know any mantras?” Derek challenges.

 

 “ _Do you know any mantras?_ ” Stiles mocks with a sour face. “Obviously. OK Liam look at me, alright? Look at me.” Liam, in all his angry breathlessness, looks up at him. “What are three things that can't long be hidden?”

 

 Liam doesn't answer.

 

 “Liam, answer me. What are the things?”

 

 “The sun, the moon...” he trails. “And the truth.”

 

 “Right. Keep repeating that. The sun, the moon, the truth.”

 

 Derek leans back and folds his arms. “Okay, smart ass.”

 

 Stiles grins triumphantly. “Well I mean, I am after all, the one that usually saves you all from impending doom.”

 

 “What you are, Stiles, is the one that annoys the hell out of me until I'm free from said impending doom. I'd rather you just leave me to die instead of talking your ear off-”

 

 “Next time I'll let you lay there then you ungrateful little-”

 

 “Don't talk to me like that you prick or once we're home I'll lock you up in one of my apartments and I'll make sure no one finds-”

 

 “At least I have friends that'll actually look for me you ass crack like what exactly do you have?? Oh yeah nothing Mr.-”

 

 “I have a girlfriend you freak.”7

 

 “Sucks for her,” Stiles argues. “Does she know you rely on a piece of wood to not like go ape-shit during a full moon-”

 

 “I'm a human now, Stiles, way to pay attention-”

 

 “Which means you're even more useless than me because I've always been a human and at least I know how to deal with it-”

 

 “How is bringing a bat to the fight supposed to help anyone, Stiles, all you do-”

 

 “A bat intimidates the threat, Derek-”

 

 “No it doesn't-”

 

 “Shut up, Sour Wolf, what do you know?”

 

 “More than you, obviously, even as a human I'm not afraid of a bat-”

 

 “That's funny considering I could probably beat you up now without-”

 

 In a flash, Derek grabs a handful of Stiles' hair and thrusts his head in to the metal confinements of the vehicle. “I'd like to see you try, Stiles. All 147 pounds of ideas that don't make sense and bad commentary that is more annoying than-”

 

 Stiles elbows Derek in the ribs then as payback for the head thing. Derek winces and in a swift movement, stands (as much as he can in a 4 1/2 foot tall van) over the teenager. “Is that what you call fighting back, Stiles? I'm concerned for you if a 12-year old decides to give you a swirly.”

 

 “Oh yeah, big guy? Other than slamming my head in to walls is there anything you would actually do to me-”

 

 “Do you want to see what I could do to you because I highly doubt-”

 

 “You're all talk, dude-”

 

 All of the sudden there's an outburst of anger around them and a growl that is so loud it startles Braeden from the driver's seat. Before the bickering assholes can pay attention, Liam throws Derek (and in turn, Stiles) in to the wall, tilting the van ever-so-slightly. 

 

 Derek falls on top of Stiles and he's pushed off immediately. Stiles winces as he sits up. “Liam, what the hell?”

 

 Liam, who apparently shifted while the two were arguing, slowly approaches him. Derek jumps in front and shoves Liam back. “Say the mantra.”

 

 Stiles scrambles up and leans on Derek, breathing heavily. “The sun, the moon, the truth. Say it Liam,” he orders. 

 

 Werewolf-Liam starts to say it.

 

 “Again.”

 

 The sun, the moon, the truth.

 

 Again.

 

 He calms down soon after. “Stop fighting, for the love of god,” he says finally. “It just made me angrier.

 

 Stiles and Derek exchange a look and roll their eyes. “Derek just needs to realize that he's as useless as I am and he's going to get himself killed if he continues to fight like a wolf,” Stiles says pointedly.

 

 The van stops and Braeden calls from the front. “We're here!”

 

 Derek pushes past the boys and opens the door. “Just because I'm human, doesn't mean I'll die,” he calls as he jumps out of the back. As he turns, however, he's welcomed by a Beserker, who immediately stabs him with a claw.

 

 “As I was saying,” Stiles yells, trying to make a joke out of it. Braeden starts after the the monster and Stiles kneels down beside Derek, Liam at his heel. “What was that, big guy? You'll be fine?” He's pissed.

 

 “Shut the hell up Stiles,” Derek growls.

 

 “No,” he shouts back, furious. “ _You_ shut up! Stop acting like you're the strongest guy in the pack, okay? In fact, I'm pretty sure my girlfriend could take you on. And I don't mean as a coyote. You need to not be afraid to ask for help you fucking ass-wipe. Like right now, you're dying. You know that, I know that. You're not healing. You're a human, like me. We don't miraculously heal. So let me deal with this, okay?” Tears brim in his eyes.

 

 Derek's in too much pain to argue, though he's not entirely convinced he would anyway. Stiles is right, and he knows that. He  _is_ dying. And  _his_ girlfriend is out risking her life to save him too. And now, this kid is sitting in front of him, feverishly trying to stop the bleeding, and getting very frustrated. The least he could do is thank him.

 

 “You're right,” he breathes painfully. Stiles' head shoots up at his voice. “You're absolutely right. But you can't expect me to be okay with the fact that my psycho ex-girlfriend did whatever she did to me and now I'm not a werewolf. I was  _born_ a fucking werewolf, okay? So this sucks. And I'm still learning to deal with all the normal functions of the human body.” He stops talking for a second. “Why is my skin so hot?” he almost yells.

 

 “It's the blood,” Stiles chokes out.

 

 Peter and Malia arrive and run over to the guys on the ground. “What the hell happened?” Malia demands. She kneels beside Stiles and rests her hand on Derek's chest, near the stab wound.

 

 Stiles is hyperlapsing his sentences. “We were arguing and shit and when he opened the door a beserker threw him out of the van and starting fighting him and he tried to fight back and it didn't work and the first gunshots weren't working on him and he stabbed Derek with a claw and I don't fucking know where Liam is what a fucking hyperactive fuck-”

 

 “Stiles, calm the hell down,” Malia interrupts impatiently. “We can look for him when we get inside.”

 

 “No, I'm not leaving Derek alone,” Stiles says sternly.

 

 She rolls her eyes. “Look Stiles, we have to get to Scott. We can't do anything for Derek now.”

 

 Derek nods a little. “She's right, go.” He winces as he adjusts his position a little. “Braeden will come back.”

 

 “Derek, I don't care about your fucking girlfriend, okay? I'm staying. Props for getting a girlfriend that isn't insanely homicidal by the way. About damn time.” He presses harder against Derek's chest and he almost yelps.

 

 “OuchWHAT THE FUCK,” Derek screams. “Stop shoving me, I don't want to die sooner than I have to, moron.”

 

 Stiles rolls his eyes now.

 

 “Just go, Stiles. Scott needs you.”

 

 “If everyone else goes they'll be fine. Go, Malia,” he instructs.

 

 “She already left, genius.” Derek laughs.

 

 Stiles looks around at the dead surrounding area. He can faintly hear gun shots, but otherwise, it's quiet. 

 

 “Okay, let's get you back in the van.” He offers his hand and Derek takes it hesitantly.

 

 “Are you sure this won't hurt more?” he asks.

 

 “Oh it will, but I'd much rather you inside than on the ground.”

 

 He eases him in the van and slams the door before locking it. He looks around frantically for a cloth to cover Derek's chest, but comes up empty handed. “For god's sake how the hell is there nothing in here?”

 

 “This isn't an ambulance, Stiles, it's a police van,” Derek reminds him. “Does your dad even know you took it?”

 

 “I don't want to talk about it,” he replies distractedly. He sighs. “Screw it.” He rips off his shirt and folds it enough to add layers to the cloth and presses it firmly against Derek's wound. “Hold it there,” he orders.

 

 He wipes away excess tears from his eyes and presses his ear to the van door to hear what's going on, though he hears nothing. “Take off your jacket, it'll be easier to inspect the damage.”

 

 “Do you have first aid?” Derek questions him, attempting to pull of his leather jacket (his 57 th , by the way, since he met Scott and Stiles).

 

 Stiles shrugs. “No, but I was awake for...  _most_ of Coach's health classes and after all the shit we've gone through since Peter bit Scott, I've got a fairly decent idea on how to approach a stab wound.”

 

 Derek sighs but ditches the jacket on the floor. 

 

 “Lay down,” Stiles rushes, nodding to the long seat Derek's sitting on. He does as he's told immediately and Stiles lowers his back the surface slowly.

 

 “Why am I doing this?” he asks, annoyed. He's getting paler and tired.

 

 “I think I read somewhere that if the blood travels horizontally it's harder to bleed out or something, I don't know. At this point I'll try anything.”

 

 Derek nods and closes his eyes, needing a break from the commotion.

 

 “Derek, don't fall asleep,” Stiles yells. “Don't.”

 

 “Just for a minute,” he begs, getting as comfortable as he can on a bench that's roughly a foot wide and made of steel while he sports a stab wound.

 

 “No. Dude!”

 

 There's silence for a moment, and Stiles starts to freak out. “Derek,” he shakes him. “Derek, wake up! C'mon, Derek, wake  _up_ !” He all but screams.

 

 Derek is startled awake, which is all Stiles needed. He takes a deep breath and leans back against the wall, welcoming the cool metal against his bare back. “Jesus, Derek, don't do anything like that again, ass-wipe. I don't want to lose you.”

 

 “I'll try not to die,” Derek replies. “Just for you.” There's a hint of sarcasm in his voice but Stiles only really registers the genuineness and grins.

 

 “Good. Because Malia or Braeden or even Scott won't keep me sane if you die.”

 

 “What about me?” a voice says suddenly as the van door swings open. “Is there something between the two of you I should know about?” Braeden asks suspiciously.

 

 Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Probably,” they say in unison.

 

 “But not right now,” Stiles finishes, standing up. “Don't die while I'm gone, okay?” he says to Derek.

 

 “Okay, dumbass,” Derek agrees.

 

 “Bye, Sour Wolf.” He pops out of the van and turns back for a quick grin and to stick his tongue out at Braeden, who looks more confused than mad. 

 

 “Stiles, why are you half naked?” Braeden calls to him as he leaves.

 

 He laughs to himself and turns around as he goes. “Don't let him fall asleep!” 

 


End file.
